The Girl Who Was A Boy
by Jitterbug1
Summary: Draco makes a serious mistake and winds up paying for it! This is the story of a boy who accidentally undergoes a sex change and the strange and silly events that follow. (DracoHarry)
1. Ooops

The Girl Who Was A Boy:

Author's Notes: This plot bunny has been bothering me for a while so I decided to finally try my hand at it. It's a little cliché, I admit, but I couldn't resist. It's an AU to Book Five, as in the same canon events take place, but this time around Draco just happens to be female.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash (sort of). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

"Come along now, Draco. It's vitally important we drop these off to Mr. Borgin as quickly as possible." Lucius Malfoy skirted a one eyed hag wearing a dirty green dress with his son trailing behind him, closely on his heels. The grimy hag gave Draco a leer and the Slytherin boy shuddered. Knockturn Alley was hardly the most pleasant of places, but ever since the return of He Who Must Not Be Named it had become even more unsavory than before, which was indeed saying something.

However, even the most repulsive of individuals scampered out of his father's way as they strode proudly through the cobbled street. It made Draco smirk, thinking that his father was feared so. Draco knew Lucius was involved in the Dark Arts and was probably even a Death Eater, but it was a vague sort of knowledge, like how he knew his father was a ministry official, but wasn't quite sure what Lucius actually _did_ at his office. Scaring people by throwing around his father's name was a simple game and while he knew it annoyed Lucius it was still fun. 

Of course, not all of it was fun and games. The incident at the Quidditch World Cup match and the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament had proven otherwise, showing Draco another facet to his father he wasn't quite sure he liked. But despite that, he still found himself saying things that were cruel and quite nasty because it was only way to get under Potter's skin. Old habits were hard to break, after all. As a Slytherin and a Malfoy, taunting Gryffindors was his job and he'd done his job admirably if the hex marks he'd woken up with on the Hogwarts Express two weeks ago were any indication. And his father had been _quite _unhappy about finding him hexed into unconscious with Crabbe and Goyle.

Lucius was much more nervous and short tempered than ever before now that the Dark Lord had returned. He and Narcissa had been arguing of late, though Draco didn't know exactly why. They'd even cleaned out the secret chamber under the drawing room floor which held an accumulation of Dark Arts procured by generations of Malfoys. Lucius had stuffed them all in a Bottomless Sack and headed towards Knockturn Alley to get them off his hands. Because Draco was his heir, he'd brought him along to watch the transaction. His father had even promised to let Draco in on a few dark secrets this summer, like what had actually gone on in the Chamber of Secrets and why Sirius Black had been after Potter their third year. After all, one day _he_ would be the man of the house and he needed to know these things.

Lucius usually wouldn't let his son tag along with him, but Draco needed new robes and Knockturn Alley was close enough to Madam Malkins that it was easier to just bring Draco along than to make two trips. "Now, what are the rules?"

Draco cast the older man a sullen glance. He hated being treated like a child. "Don't take anything."

"And?" Lucius prompted.

"Don't touch anything, don't whine for anything, and don't say anything."

"Good boy. Ah, here we are." 

They entered the dingy establishment, the bell on the door wheezing out a half hearted tinkle before falling silent again. The shop was crowded with all manner of things and Draco gave the Hand of Glory a wistful glance before walking towards the counter where his father was standing. Mr. Borgin came out of the back room with an oily smile.

"What can I do for you today, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I'm selling various knick knacks that… some people wouldn't look favorably upon if they knew I had them in my possession." 

Draco tuned them out in favor of wandering around aimlessly, taking peeks at various items. There was a particularly interesting lamp that looked Arabic in origin. It even had symbols scratched into it's side. The Slytherin glanced cautiously at his father, who was still doing business with Mr. Borgin. The older man was completely was immersed in his conversation. 

The lamp was on the back of the shelf, behind what looked to be a bottle of poison and figurine made out of clay. The clay statuette was badly sculpted with merely a few large bulges for its stomach and breasts and it looked very, very old. The lamp behind it glittered enticingly and with thoughts of genies and wishes swimming in his head, Draco pushed the clay figurine out of the way in order to reach the lamp.

As soon as his fingers made contact with the clay figurine he screamed, his eyes rolling back in his head as he crumpled to the ground in a heap of limp limbs and robes. His last thought was of his father. 

He's going to wring my neck.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	2. Draco gets boobies

The Girl Who Was A Boy:

Author's Notes: For the moment, Draco's still a 'he' in this chapter despite the fact he is physically female. Possibly, this is because he still doesn't accept the situation or possibly because it's too early to break out the girly-stuff. I don't know, take your pick. Later, I'll refer to him as a she, but for now I'm going with masculine pronouns. Hope that's not too confusing. 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash (sort of). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Draco woke up, aching all over. He imagined he felt exactly like someone would after having the Cruciatus Curse cast on them. Draco's memory of the past few hours or possibly even days was a blur of pain and heat, followed by cold so intense it seared his bones. He cracked open his eyes and then shut them tightly against the bright glow. After a moment, he opened them again and blinked away the excess moisture lingering in the corner of his eyes.

He was lying in a large bed in an unfamiliar room. The walls were a bright white color and the wizarding lamps were turned on so high it was no wonder his eyes had hurt so much. The crackle of magic in the room alerted him to the fact several spells had been cast, possibly ones to monitor him, though he hadn't seen anyone since he'd woken. Draco looked around him, wrinkling his nose at the strange smell of the place and the sterile atmosphere. He felt a little dizzy and disconnected from his body, but even with all that he knew this wasn't home.

"Ah, hullo there. How are you feeling today?" Came a cheerful voice and Draco turned with painstaking care to see a wizard with a scroll in hand and a beard long enough to rival Dumbledore's.

Draco scowled. "Like I got trampled by a hippogriff. Where am I?"

The doctor smiled gently at him. "St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. You're on ground floor right now in the Artifact Accident ward, but your parents made sure you got your own private room."

"Why aren't they here?" He asked plaintively, wanting his mother to fuss over him. _Of course, seeing Father can wait for a bit_, he thought hastily.

"Hmm? Oh. They've got another appointment with the Department of Accidental Magic Reversal. They'll be here shortly. Now, I'm Healer Adams. I'll be casting a few spells on you to make sure you're in good health, if that's alright?"

"Fine." Draco said shortly and sat back while the healer started. The old man waved his wand and muttered several Latin phrases, making small 'hmm' sounds as he scribbled down notes on his parchment with a self-inking quill. "What exactly is wrong with me?" Draco asked as soon as the physician tucked his quill away.

Adams smiled nervously. "Physically, nothing. But it appears that ah, your contact with the Dark Arts object in Mr. Borgin's store, um. Well, you've changed sex."

"_What_?!" Draco shrieked, for the first time aware of just how high the pitch of his voice was. The Slytherin groped himself and was alarmed to find that he did indeed have breasts. "Why haven't you changed me _back_ yet?! What's wrong with you people? I demand to be fixed, right now! My Father will have something to say about your incompetence!"

"Now, calm down Draco or I'll have to give you a sedative potion. The Department of Accidental Magic Reversal is in charge of that. I'm just here to make sure that your transition from male to female didn't damage you. For a while there, your life was in great danger."

Draco slumped to the bed, too tired to continue his hysterics. He was utterly speechless. He'd been turned into a GIRL?! His father was going to kill him, no doubt about it. "Oh Merlin." He said weakly, looking down at himself in helpless horror. He chanced a glance down the front of his hospital robe and blanched, looking away quickly. Yes, those lumps of flesh were most definitely breasts.

The doctor searched through his medical robes and removed a vial from one deep pocket. "Drink this, Draco. You seem to be going into shock. It will help." Draco cast a glance at the dark blue liquid and took the vial from the healer, swallowing it's contents quickly. 

"Bleh." He grimaced at the taste. 

"Try and get some sleep." The physician advised. "Your parents won't be here for at least another two hours. If you need anything, just give the nurse a holler. I'll be back to check on you later this afternoon. Sweet dreams, Draco." He left, his footsteps receding into the distance.

The dread, panic, and the numerous aches receded as the potion starting taking effect and Draco was left in his funny smelling room to hope fervently this was all just a bad dream.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	3. Lucius arrives, along with some expositi...

The Girl Who Was A Boy:

A/N's at end of chapter.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash (sort of). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

The whole horrible situation turned out to be very real, despite Draco's wishes to the contrary. At half past two his parents showed up. His mother looked stressed and Lucius appeared to be quite vexed, his lips tightened into a thin line. "Draco." The elder Malfoy greeted his offspring curtly.

"Oh, my poor baby. How are you feeling, darling? Has the fever broken yet?" His mother took a seat on the bed next to him and petted his hair gently. Draco leaned into the caress tiredly.

"The healer says I'm fine. He gave me a sedative potion. How long have I been here?" 

"One week." Draco's father began to pace agitatedly with his hands clasped tightly behind him. "I told you not to touch anything, didn't I? But you didn't listen to me, did you? First the hippogriff, then the ferret incident, followed by being hexed by Potter at the end of the year, and now this! Do you know how you've tarnished the Malfoy name with your foolishness? Your impromptu sex change is all over the Daily Prophet! I'm a laughingstock at the Ministry. Thank Merlin that Skeeter woman's disappeared or it would be much worse." 

"Lucius, that's enough! You can punish Draco later. The poor dear must feel awful. He doesn't need you ranting at him about the family honor." Narcissa gave her husband a cold look.

"I'm sorry, Father." Draco said in a small voice. "I didn't mean to embarrass you." Narcissa's eyes softened and she stroked his cheek, murmuring reassurances to him.

Lucius sighed, looking tired suddenly. "I know Draco. I just wish you would _think _for once. You've certainly gotten yourself into a predicament this time." 

Draco felt suddenly afraid. "But, I mean. They can change me back, can't they? I'm not going to be stuck like this forever?" His girlish voice wavered as he spoke. 

Lucius turned to his newly female child with a grim look on his face. "The Department of Accidental Magic Reversal has examined the statuette. It's from Ancient Mesopotamia. They had specialists come in and they identified it as a figurine of Nammu, the Sumerian Creatrix Goddess. It's magic was drained after your…" he paused to grimace. "Transformation so that was all they could discern. I've contacted everyone I could think of, but they all came to the same conclusion. There's no way to reverse it. Even Severus doesn't have any potions that could help you." 

"_No_! They'll just have to try harder! I refuse to be a sodding _girl_!"

"Calm down, right now." Lucius said icily. "You have no choice in the matter. This is beyond anyone's capabilities to fix. No matter what you think Draco, I am not omnipotent. You'll just have to deal with the consequences of your actions for once." 

All Draco could reply with was an incoherent cry of frustration and rage. "It's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair. Deal with it. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. You'll watch him? Her?" Lucius corrected himself, turning to Narcissa and effectively dismissing his heir. 

She looked disapproving, but refrained from commenting on his abrupt departure. "Of course, Lucius."

He exited swiftly, his dark robes swirling around him dramatically. Draco turned to his mother with a pleading expression on his face. "There has to be something we can do."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. There really is no way to turn you back. Try and look on the bright side."

Draco glared at her. "Oh? Pray tell what that would be. I've got _breasts, _Mother! Breasts! And I'm missing my penis! As far as I'm concerned there _is_ no bright side."

"_Draco_!" She said sternly. "Don't be so crude." 

"Who cares? Weasley's going to laugh himself sick about this. And Potter, ha! I'll never be able to live this down. Even _Longbottom's_ going to make fun of me. Do you know how pathetic that makes me?" Draco whined wretchedly. 

"I'm sorry, dear heart. But there's nothing I can do for you. You'll just have to make the best of this. I've arranged for us to visit Camilla."  


"Grandmother?" Draco questioned, puzzled. "Why are we going to see her?" 

Narcissa looked away as she spoke. "Your father is having several of his… associates visit for the summer. I don't want you at the Manor while they're there."

"Oh." Said Draco, apprehensively, casting his eyes down as he picked at a stray thread on his bed sheet.

His mother forced a smile and changed the subject quickly. "I'm sure your grandmother misses you. Camilla hasn't seen you since last Christmas. And she can help you me with your etiquette."

The Slytherin gave her a suspicious look. "Etiquette? I've already had all my lessons. I don't _want _anymore lessons! And I certainly don't need them."

The blonde woman favored her child with a level look. "You finished learning how to behave properly as a boy. Now you need to learn as a girl. A Malfoy needs to be prepared for all social situations." 

"Oh, wonderful. How completely, absolutely marvelous." Draco's tone made it absolutely clear he thought it anything but. However, Narcissa's determined look was not to be argued with. "At least this day can't get any worse." 

A knock sounded and the two female Malfoys turned to see a witch smiling at them. She was wearing glasses and professional looking medical robes. "Hello you two. I'm Deirdre Underwood. I'll be Draco's gynecologist. Let's start your examination, shall we?"  


Draco whimpered. 

To Be Continued…

Author's Notes: "Nammu is the Sumerian Creatrix Goddess. She personifies the Apsu, or the sweet fertile waters, as the source of water and hence fertility. She is a goddess without a spouse, the self-procreating womb of the universe, the primal matter, standing for the female sex as the one apparently able to create spontaneously." -- www.ancientworlds.net (add appropriate dashes where you will). I chose to make the statue of Nammu instead of Inanna, who is also a Sumerian fertility goddess, because Nammu seems older and more mysterious. Inanna is the goddess of love and war as well as fertility, is fairly similar to other goddesses of the time period, and is surrounded by rather complex mythology, most of which is also rather confusing. I just liked Nammu better, that's all. Just in case you were wondering, which you probably weren't. 

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	4. Home sweet home

The Boy Who Was A Girl:

Author's Notes: This is a short chapter to set the scene and introduce Draco's grandmother. Don't worry though, I'm updating again right after this. :)

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being.

Narcissa checked him out of St. Mungo's, but not until after the sadistic Miss Underwood had poked and prodded at him heartlessly. Healer Adams gave Draco one last examination to be on the safe side and ordered the Malfoy heir to drink plenty of fluids and to stay in bed for the rest of the day, but the reluctant patient could have cared less as long as he was allowed to escape. They flooed to the mansion in Wiltshire (not to be confused with Malfoy Manor which was all of thirty miles away) where Lucius' mother resided along with her huge fleet of house elves and gardeners. Apparently, Narcissa had already arranged everything and packed their belongings.

Draco stumbled out of the large fireplace, his head spinning from the trip. Years of traveling through the floo network had accustomed him to the disorienting mode of travel, but he was in no condition at the moment to display his usual grace. "Oh, my head. I don't feel very well." Narcissa stepped out of the fireplace and cast a quick cleaning charm on both of them.

"Here, darling. Sit down for a moment. Camilla should be here any second now." 

Draco took a seat on a settee and closed his eyes. They opened again at the sound of swishing robes. "There's my sweet grandchild! Give me a hug, Draco. You must be so exhausted, you poor child." Draco hugged his grandmother, resting his head against her ample bosom. The Malfoy matriarch was ninety three and a very active witch for her age. She was one of the cornerstones of aristocratic pureblood wizarding society as well as a notoriously successful investor in the Wizarding Stock Market.

But to Draco, she was just Grandmother and, when Draco had been younger, Grandmummy. The familiar bun of iron colored hair and the sweet smiles reserved just for him eased the knots of worry lodged in the pit of his stomach. His mother was wonderful, but no one could compare to his beloved grandmother who had spoiled him rotten and showered him with affection all his life. He turned to look at his mother who had assumed a neutral expression. She and Camilla did not get along very well, but they were always painstakingly polite to one another.

"I'm in the Green Room, right?" Draco questioned halfheartedly.

"Of course. I know that's your favorite, love." It was the guest room and usually reserved only for the most important personages. Draco really shouldn't have been allowed to stay there, but Camilla always made exceptions for him. "Why don't we get you settled in? You look very tired."

"The healer ordered Draco to rest for the day and to drink plenty of fluids." Narcissa offered, standing as Draco and his grandmother rose.

"Of course." Camilla said absently, studying the changes in Draco's face. "I'll have Tubby see to it. Now, let's get you off your feet, Draco dearest. You've a long summer ahead of you." 

Draco had no idea just how true her words were.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	5. Run, Draco! Run!

The Boy Who Was A Girl:

Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews! The encouragement and suggestions you gave me helped immensely, particularly T'Maia's recommendations. I'm finally using feminine pronouns, which is nice because I feel weird referring to a girl as he. Also, I invented a new word! A midwitch is a magical midwife. Just though I'd let you know that.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being.

"NO! Leave me alone!" Draco howled, dodging the Full Body Bind her mother had cast in hopes of capturing her wayward child. "My hair's fine just the way it is! And I'm not wearing any bloody dresses!" The former boy dashed through the hallway and took a quick detour through one of the house elf corridors her mother was too tall to use. 

"Come back here this instant, Draco! _Draco_!" 

Ignoring her mother's calls, Draco ran quickly towards the North Wing of the mansion and ducked into an empty room. Draco had taken to wearing her old clothes from when she was a boy and binding her breasts with gauze, much to her mother's disapproval. Her hair was still short and Draco was determined that it would stay that way. She was refusing all attempts to turn her into a respectable Malfoy girl. Draco now _loathed_ that phrase, if only because she'd heard it so many times.

Though, to her credit, Draco had finally accepted the fact that she really was female and that she was going to stay that way. 

She'd been in denial for a whole week before Camilla had taken her to St. Mungo's where a specialist had looked her over and thoroughly examined her. Of course, Draco had complained the whole time, but that was only to be expected. The doctor, some trumped up mudblood with a degree from both a muggle and a magical university, had done a series of confusing tests and come up with a final result; Draco was one hundred percent female. Not only was the way she thought distinctly feminine (the doctor had mentioned something about patterns in her brain), but even her magic was different. Draco had been forced to get a new wand at Ollivander's since the old one felt strange and foreign in her hand and probably wouldn't have worked if she had been allowed to use it during the summer. The new wand was ten inches long and made of birch with a snidget feather core.

Even though she was a girl, Draco didn't want to have her hair grown out or wear stupid uncomfortable underwear. She didn't want to learn how to act like a polite young lady or how to walk in high heels. And she _certainly _wasn't going to change her name to something more feminine. Draco hated being a girl. Her breasts were always getting in the way in the most annoying fashion, hence the gauze. She always felt like something was missing when she walked and having her mother critiquing her boyish stride didn't help matters any. She was even scrawnier than she had been before and she'd never been very big for a boy either. Camilla and Narcissa were just trying to help, but their efforts only made things worse.

Draco had read the Daily Prophet. She knew she was being called The Girl Who Was a Boy and that she was the freak featured in the article 'Draco Malfoy's Magical Mistake'. She would have bet all the galleons in Gringotts that Weasley and Potter had cut out the articles and were laughing over them joyfully. At least there weren't any pictures or Draco would have died from the shame of it. Witch Weekly had even tried to contact her for an interview, but Camilla had put them in their place quickly enough. The Malfoy matriarch had a good deal of their stocks in her abundant portfolio and they were reluctant to offend her. 

Halfway through the summer, Draco was still rebuffing the combined efforts of both Narcissa and Camilla. There had been several discussions of sending her off to a finishing school for girls until Draco became used to her new role in life, but it had been decided that Draco's magical education shouldn't suffer just because she had switched genders. Hogwarts was the very best wizarding school in England and Malfoys, no matter their sex, always demanded the best.

Being the daughter of Lucius Malfoy was a very different thing from being his son. Draco would still inherit the Malfoy estates and fortune, but she wasn't allowed to officially hold a political opinion or to work. Conversely enough, instead of being married off to Pansy Parkinson as previous arrangements had dictated before her change, now she was going to be allowed to choose her future husband herself as long as he met certain standards. This was mostly because now her upbringing was the responsibility of the Malfoy women and they were much more understanding about such matters.

Draco might have had to contend with a younger brother if it wasn't for the fact that Narcissa Malfoy was incapable of bearing any more children. Her mother's petite frame and slender hips were not suited to childbirth. In fact, she'd almost miscarried Draco two times and even with the help of the very best midwitch in Europe attending her every need Draco had still been born two months prematurely. As a baby, Draco's immune system hadn't been very strong and for a good portion of her infancy she was very ill. It was part of the reason why Draco had been so spoiled by her family and why Lucius tended to be a bit more lenient with his heir than he otherwise would be. And Camilla and Narcissa had been even worse when it came to disciplining Draco when she had been a little boy. Or rather _not _disciplining Draco.

Not that they let Draco run wild. Far from it, really. They seemed to have taken the task of turning Draco into a proper girl to heart. Draco did her required summer homework and was willing to do her school work when the time came, but she refused anything having to do with etiquette or femininity. Draco Malfoy might have been cursed to live out the rest of her life as a female, but she didn't have to act like some sort of delicate flower. Draco hated her new life and was hanging on tooth and nail to the tattered remnants of her old, and in her opinion _better_, one. Sighing, she took a seat near the window and stared outside at the lawn. A popping noise drew her attention away from the green landscape.

"Young Miss Malfoy?" The house elf asked hesitantly. 

"What is it Gloomy?" Draco snapped.

The house elf blinked its bulbous eyes mournfully at her tone. "Mistress and the Missus asked Gloomy to tell you they is in the drawing room. Mistress is wanting me to tell you she is willing to make a deal."

The Slytherin sat up quickly. This was the first time either of the Malfoy women had offered to reconsider their ridiculous attempts to turn Draco into the perfect girl. "Really?" 

"Yes, Miss."

Draco stood up quickly and made her way through the mansion towards her grandmother's drawing room. She entered warily, edging her way inside only far enough to see them so she could make a quick escape. Draco had dodged any number of crafty attempts to catch her previously and was still on her guard for another one. "Sit down, Draco. Please. We promise not to force you into anything."

Knowing her grandmother always made good on her promises, Draco closed the door behind her and took a seat in the spare armchair. "I'm here. What's the deal?" 

Camilla smiled in a way that made Draco nervous. "I've realized that we've been going about this the wrong way. I know just how stubborn you can be, dear. You are a Malfoy after all. And in order to help you, we need your cooperation. So, I'm proposing a bit of bribery. How would you feel about a new Firebolt? Or perhaps tickets to the next Falmouth Falcons game?"

And Draco knew in that instant that she was doomed to live out the rest of her life as a 'respectable Malfoy girl'.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome.


	6. Lessons in etiquette

The Boy Who Was A Girl:

Author's Notes: I'm trying to keep Draco in character, even if he is now a _she_. And she's keeping her name, mostly because I've had my fill of Draco being called Dracina or Jasmine/Angelica/Kakalinamarika or whatever. I'm afraid that if I start down that slippery slope the next thing you know Draco will be a gorgeous Veela-girl with a mysterious past and silver eyes flecked with gold that change color when the moon is waning gibbous. Yeah, so anyway! The bout of hysterics are, I think, rather IC for a boy who thought he was dying from a Hippogriff scratch. I'd like to know someone else's take on it though. *hint hint* Why are you still reading my author notes anyway? Go read the story!

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being.

During the rest of the summer, Camilla and Narcissa became allies in the battle to transform Draco from a spoilt male heir into a polite young lady. Needless to say it was a long, tiring war with many casualties, including most of the knickknacks in the parlor which had been shattered during one of Draco's many temper tantrums. In exchange for her new Firebolt, Draco agree to grow her hair out to her waist and to learn the cosmetic charms needed in order to style it and keep it healthy. And the Quidditch tickets meant she was (eventually) coaxed into using hair removal potion on her legs, arms, and underarms. To Draco's intense displeasure, she discovered that the potion _burned _something awful, but there was nothing to be done about it after she'd already agreed. 

Oddly enough, no one had warned her about the potions' side effects. How her mother could forget to mention the hair removal potion caused extreme agony was beyond her, but she suspected it had something to do with the fact no sane person would use it if they actually knew how much it hurt beforehand.

Getting Draco into dresses and skirts, however, posed a problem. It took a hefty raise in her allowance to persuade her to even try to wear the delicate, expensive dresses Narcissa picked out for her and a great deal of sweets to get Draco to learn how to walk in high heels. Eventually, Draco herself was determined to figure out how to walk in stilettos without breaking her neck; after all, it would be awfully embarrassing if a Malfoy couldn't figure out how to do something so simple. The sly taunts Camilla aimed her way when she stumbled in her new shoes only made her try harder.

Dancing was a bit more difficult. Draco always ended up leading no matter how hard she tried not to. They wasted a whole week in the attempt to re-educate her and in the end simply resolved to let Draco partner with a pushover if she ever needed to attend a ball. 

The most challenging thing Draco encountered was learning how not to speak her mind. For all that she was a Slytherin, Draco was actually quite honest. Brutally so, even. If she thought someone was a disgrace to wizarding kind she said so and if Granger was a mudblood, who was she to tiptoe around the word? However, Camilla and Narcissa didn't quite see things her way. They spent hours at a time coaching Draco how to engage in the meaningless, polite conversation required of an aristocratic woman and how to hold her tongue even when she was in a temper. Draco ended up with a new potions kit to reward her efforts and quite an expensive one at that.

When Camilla tried to bribe her into changing her name, Draco steadfastly refused. It was the one point she would not capitulate on, not matter what they offered her. Breasts or not, Draco was still the same person she'd been for the first fourteen years of her life. She already felt as if she was losing herself; she woke up terrified on more than one occasion after having a nightmare in which she'd been staring into a mirror that didn't show her reflection. When Draco finally had a temper tantrum (complete with airborne knickknacks), Narcissa and Camilla finally decided to leave well enough alone. They turned their attention to other neglected areas of Draco's woefully inadequate education instead. 

Draco received a new broomstick servicing kit for her lessons in running a household in the manner befitting a Lady Malfoy and the general politics involved in being a Ministry official's wife. Narcissa had to buy Draco a new cloak in order to coax her into attending afternoon tea at the Parkinson Estate. Seeing Pansy again had been weird and disturbing, considering the fact Draco had kissed her a few times when she was a boy. They eyed each other askance for a little while and proceeded to make stilted and slightly awkward if polite conversation. Draco had actually been glad for the lessons his mother and grandmother had been giving her, because surely otherwise she'd have been struck dumb.

Shortly after that, Draco discovered the joys of menstruation. And by joys of course, Draco meant horrors. It had taken two hours for Camilla and Narcissa to convince Draco she wasn't bleeding to death and another two to calm her hysterics. She had spent the rest of the day moaning in pain from the cramps and ordering everyone around from her bed, demanding chocolate ice cream with hot fudge and nuts sprinkled on top from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and a heating charm for her aching stomach. Thankfully, there was a potion she could take once every month that meant she wouldn't have to deal with _that _sort of thing again until she was ready to have children… which _really_ didn't bear thinking about. She was going to require _a lot _more than a Firebolt to be coaxed into childbirth, that was for sure.

Every day, Narcissa taught her a new cosmetic charm. Each one was more annoying than the last, from the one that kept her eyebrows neat to the rather frivolous charm that made her lips shiny with dew. Draco actually looked like a proper girl now, though it was truly only skin deep. Occasionally, Draco found herself wishing she didn't have to sit down to pee or adjusting her bra in public when it pinched, to the utter despair of her mother. Every lesson was a struggle, but between the iron will and cunning of Camilla and the absolute stubbornness and sweet cajoling of Narcissa, Draco had no chance of winning.

By the end of the summer, when Draco received her Hogwarts letter and prefect badge, she actually resembled something like a polite young lady. Draco, who had always been an excellent actor, could fake the coy sweetness required of pureblood girls easily, though it took a bit more effort to make sure she keep her usual acidic, sarcastic comments to herself when she was angry. She got a new pair of kidskin gloves and dragonhide boots for her troubles along with a new wardrobe, though it was, quite predictably, filled with frilly girls' clothes.

When Draco saw her father again two days before school started, she was standing between her mother and grandmother wearing soft lilac dress robes and her hair fell to her waist in loose, shining curls. She smiled demurely at her father, who looked cross, but also rather smug. After the other two women had welcomed him home, she greeted him courteously in melodic tones. "Hello, Father. It's nice to see you again. I do hope your summer was pleasant." 

Lucius did a double take and stared. "_Draco_? Is that you?" He asked incredulously.

Amused at his reaction, the youngest Malfoy inclined her head in agreement. "Would you care for some tea? We have Earl Grey. It is your favorite, isn't it?"

Draco's father blinked in a startled manner while Camilla and Narcissa exchanged fondly amused looks. "Yes, of course."

"Come along, Lucius. I'll not have you freezing on the doorstep." He obeyed his mother instinctively, still stunned at the change in his child. "Don't worry about it." The matron advised her son, leaning in conspiratorially. "She's still the same stubborn trouble magnet. She's just messing you about."

"Who, me?" Draco asked innocently, pretending to be offended when all three of her relatives snorted in disbelief at the same time.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	7. Father knows best

The Boy Who Was A Girl:

Author's Notes: This is the last chapter set during the summer. This is set in fifth year and it loosely follows canon except for the fact Draco's a girl now. She's still just as petty and childish as ever, but that shouldn't last very long. Girls do mature faster than boys you know. :) I'm looking forward to writing how one little accident can dramatically change the lives of everyone at Hogwarts. But that's what you get for touching strange magical artifacts! Happy reading!

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being.

Draco had been anxiously awaiting her father's arrival for the majority of the summer, hoping his presence would shield her from Camilla's and Narcissa's enthusiastic labors. It didn't - in fact, it made them worse. Their efforts redoubled in an attempt to impress Lucius and Draco was left to endure their attempts to reform her while her father looked on approvingly.

Lucius had little patience for 'mindless chatter' at the best of times, but he barely spoke to Draco now. In fact, all her attempts to talk with him had been met with irritation or impatience and, on one notable occasion, amused condescension. It frustrated Draco beyond imagining. It wasn't her fault she'd ended up as a girl! And even though she was female, she was still the person she had always been! 

He wouldn't even tell her about Sirius Black or the Chamber of Secrets now as he had previously promised, because, as her father said, "You needn't worry your pretty little head about politics, Draco. Shouldn't you be working on your embroidery?" Seething, Draco had returned to stitching, though she had been so forceful with her needle that by the time she finished sewing she had four new holes in her fingers.

Being a spoilt only child, Draco spent her time sulking around the house and shooting her father sullen looks during mealtimes, which was the only time she actually saw Lucius. Between the demands of his job at the Ministry and his obligations to his… _associates _he had little time for frivolous chit-chat or even meaningful conversation. 

However, things only became unbearable when her father decided to stick his nose where it was most definitely not wanted. One morning at breakfast, Lucius turned his attention away from his food and to his daughter. "Your grandmother tells me that she gave you a new Firebolt."  


"Yes, Father." Draco said, smiling a little now that her father had deigned to converse with her. "You wouldn't believe how fast I can go now! It's amazing. Potter won't even know what hit him! I'll catch the snitch right under his nose this year, just you wait!" 

Lucius folded his copy of the Daily Prophet and set it by his plate, frowning. "That's what I wanted to speak with you about. You're not going to play Quidditch this year. It's unseemly."

Draco's mouth fell open in shock. "What?!"

"Don't gape, Draco. It's unbecoming of a young lady. I've already written to your Head of House. Snape was very understanding. The whole ordeal is as much of an embarrassment to him as it is to the family."  


"You can't take me off the team! I'm the only Seeker Slytherin has! Without me the team won't even stand a chance against Gryffindor! _Father_!" Draco whined, clutching the edges of the table as she pleaded desperately. "I have to play!"

Lucius stared at her sternly, willing his daughter to behave. "No, you do not. You are a Malfoy and you will conduct yourself properly. There hasn't been a girl on the Slytherin Quidditch team for two hundred and seventy years. You must know that Miriam McCormack, while an excellent chaser, was forced to quit halfway through the season to take a maternity leave. You will most certainly _not_ be following in her footsteps. Severus will be sending me reports of your behavior throughout the year and I expect to hear that you have conducted yourself with the dignity befitting your station. Do you understand me?" He had that dangerous tone, the one even Draco knew not to push.

"Yes, Father." Draco spat angrily, stabbing her eggs with her fork until the yolk ran down in yellow rivers to pool near her toast.

"Don't play with your food, dear." Narcissa said from where she had been sitting quietly at Lucius' side.

Draco gritted her teeth and stabbed her egg some more, staring at her mother rebelliously all the while. Her mother sighed, but let her be. She had long since discovered that the little battles weren't worth fighting when she needed to save her energy for the big ones that actually mattered.

"I'm off to the Ministry. Potter has his hearing today."

"Hearing?" Draco asked, perking up. She'd been so busy learning how to be a respectable Malfoy girl and sulking that she hadn't had time to keep up with news. Obviously, that had been an oversight. There was no excuse for ignorance.

Lucius smirked. "Yes. The foolish boy is being brought up on charges of underage magic. He cast a Patronus and in front of a muggle at that. It isn't even his first offense. The Wizengamot is sure to prosecute. Both Fudge and Umbridge will be pushing for a particularly harsh punishment, which means two out of three are on our side."

Draco grinned maliciously, her full lips curling up in a rather predatory manner. "Do you think he'll be expelled?" She dimpled in delight, even as she imagined Potter being cast out of Hogwarts in disgrace.

"We can only hope." Lucius laughed, before returning back to his newspaper.

That smoothed Draco's ruffled feathers. If she couldn't play Quidditch, it was only fair that Potter couldn't either and he certainly couldn't be the Gryffindor Seeker if he wasn't even attending Hogwarts. The very idea was enough to make her dizzy with glee.

Suddenly, things were looking up.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


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